Fatal Blade (Decker's War#3) (18 page)

BOOK: Fatal Blade (Decker's War#3)
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Zack shook his head absently.

“It’s not a question of trust, Miko.  I’m just wondering whether doubling up on the job will make a difference.”

He glanced at Talyn who shrugged as if to say it was his call.

“Okay.  Take that station,” he pointed to a console on the other side of the bridge.  “I’ll push the raw feed over, and you can look for anything that’ll trigger a gut feel.  While you do that, I’m going to sort through the AI’s analysis.  I know the wretched program well enough to understand its idiosyncrasies.  You don’t.”

Steiger tossed off a mock salute and dropped into the designated seat.

“Ready.”

***

“I’m drawing a blank,” the mercenary said a few hours later.  “If there’s anything we need to worry about in this system, it’s either running silent or in close orbit around Garonne.”

“Concur,” Decker replied pushing his seat away from the console and stretching his arms.  “Time to get a little closer.”

“Perhaps a brief moment to visit the facilities and maybe have a coffee?”  Talyn suggested, rising from the helm seat.  “Our next jump will be short and who knows what we’ll see then.  Everyone’s dialed in, so we’re ready to go at any time.”

Decker felt his bladder respond to the notion and smiled.

“Agreed.  I’ll make coffee.  Neither of you has the right touch with the machine.  Your brews always seem to come out tasting like sludge.”

“Please, do impress us, O Master of the autochef,” Talyn replied, waving her hand.  “Remember, mine is pure, like my soul.”

“I thought you said you had no soul.”

“And thus, it must be pure.”  She laughed.  “Something that doesn’t exist cannot be corrupted.”

“Your boss has a point,” Steiger said, shaking her head.  “I’ll have mine like a proper human being, thank you very much.”

“My job is to make the brew.  What you two comedians do with it before it touches your soft, rosy lips isn’t my problem.”

“Is he always this touchy?”  Steiger asked Talyn while the two women made their way aft to the heads.

“Must be his time of the month,” the agent replied, in a voice loud enough for Decker to hear.  She winked at the mercenary.

“Sludge from the environmental filters it is,” Zack announced, following the two women down the passageway.  “And I know just the right amount to draw from the septic tanks.”

“As I said, touchy, isn’t he?”

“Until I find better, he’ll do.”  Talyn turned to blow a kiss at Zack over her shoulder.

***

Decker shook off the emergence disorientation and forced his eyes to focus on the sensor readout.  Their little convoy had dropped out of FTL as close to Garonne as Talyn dared.

The AI began chiming with an insistence that drove away the last of the fog dulling his senses.

“We’ve got a clear view of Garonne’s orbitals,” he said after taking a deep breath, “and there’s a pair of sloops broadcasting an Avalon PMC beacon.”

“Got a visual?”  Talyn asked.

“Coming.”

A blue-green planet covered by streaks of torn white clouds grew at an alarming rate on the main screen as Decker zoomed in, hunting for tiny specks circling high above the atmosphere.  Just when Garonne was about to fill the entire display, it slipped to one side while the camera locked onto a bright dot.

“There’s one.  It’s in a polar orbit.  The other is in an equatorial orbit.”

Data about the ship appeared beside its image and Talyn frowned.

“Larger than us by about a third, though we might have parity when it comes to weapons.  We are a little over gunned for our size.”

“But they’ll have autoloaders for the missile launchers, a feature that we conspicuously lack,” Zack said, “so we’ll get one chance only.”

“Assuming we need to fight.”  Steiger sounded dubious.

“If your boss is right and these Avalon rent-a-spacers are here to enforce the colonial governor’s will, they’ll want to ensure your ships don’t make it to the surface.  Destroying a couple of small freighters isn’t much of a stretch for them.  Count on the buggers trying.  After all, what good is a blockade if it doesn’t block?”

“So you’re saying we’re basically screwed?”

A wide grin spread across Decker’s face.

“Nope.  Not in the least.  They’re seeing four freighters right now, ships that can’t even scratch the paint job on those sloops.  What they’re about to realize is that one of us isn’t an easy target.  Remember, corporate types aren’t in it to die for glory but to make a profit.  Scratching the paint job costs money.  Denting it costs even more.  All we have to do is force them to pay attention to
Phoenix
while the actual freighters head for the ground.”

He turned his grin on Hera Talyn.

“Permission to go to battle stations, Captain?”

“You look much too happy at the notion,” she replied with a theatrical sigh, “though I suppose that your bloodthirstiness might be appropriate for once.  I’ll let Verrill know that we’re splitting from the convoy with the intent to peel the blockade off Garonne for them.”

“Don’t forget to ask for landing coordinates,” he reminded her.  “We’ve got some of their stuff to off-load.”

Then, Decker touched his screen, and a loud claxon went off while the lights dimmed.

“Battle stations, folks. I’ve hoisted the black flag so strap in ‘cause we’re about to rock the kasbah.”

 

NINETEEN

 

“Sir, four ships in a convoy formation dropped out of FTL just beyond lunar orbit and are inbound on a direct course.”

The officer of the watch glanced over the sensor tech’s shoulder and studied the readout.

“Small, clapped-out freighters?  Could be the ones we were warned about, but the report said there would be three, not four.”  He turned towards the signals petty officer.  “Petrov, warn
Merlin
.  I’ll get the captain.”

“No need,” a loud voice boomed behind him.  “I have the bridge, Mister Keele.”

“I stand relieved.”

“We’ll have no trouble intercepting those tubs.”

Captain Gurik, commanding officer of the Avalon Private Military Corporation ship
Morgana,
rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

“Petrov, send out a warning on all frequencies that they’re to enter orbit and await inspection.  Any attempt to land without permission will be met with lethal force.”

A few minutes passed, then the signals petty officer slowly shook his head and turned to face Gurik.

“We got a reply, sir.  You’re not going to believe this, but we’ve been told that any attempt to prevent the ships from landing would be met with lethal force.”

Gurik guffawed loudly.

“I’d like to see them try.  Sound battle stations, Mister Keele, though I doubt we’ll raise a sweat.”

***

“What do you mean you hoisted the black flag?”  Talyn asked in a tone dripping with suspicion.

“If we’re going to fight the Avalon buggers, we should do so under our own banner, no?”

“So you invented a flag for the Navy of the Free Republic of Garonne?”  She kept her eyes on the countdown timer marking the moment
Phoenix
would change course and aim her bow at the nearest PMC sloop and didn’t see Decker’s mischievous smirk.

“Of course not.  There is no such thing as the Garonne Navy.  I made up our banner own a few days ago, just in case we had to go into battle.”

“Dare I ask?”

“Probably not.  You’ve got a ship to sail.”

“And you’re afraid that I’ll blow my top?”

“No.  I’m afraid you’re going to lecture me on the difference between appropriate and inappropriate again.  We don’t have time for that.”

Talyn, eyes still on the helm, gave him the rigid digit salute, something Zack seemed to find so inordinately funny that he barely managed to swallow an outburst of laughter.

“Does he do inappropriate things often?”  Steiger asked.

“You have no idea,” Talyn replied.  “There are days when I think he desperately needs adult supervision.”

She touched her controls.

“We’re changing course.  You can turn us into a mercenary’s worst nightmare now.”

***

“Sir, one of the ships has tacked and is headed for us.”

“What?”  Captain Gurik sat up in his command chair and stared at the tactical schematic.  “Have they lost their ever-loving minds?”

“Its power curve just spiked.”

“Put it on screen.  I want to see what that idiot looks like.”

The video feed zeroed in on
Phoenix
, just in time to see the camouflage plates move aside and reveal gun turret after gun turret.  A dark opening, like the mouth of a shark, appeared on its underside, unmasking the missile launchers in its belly.

Gurik dropped back in his seat, eyes wide.

“What in heaven’s name is that?”

“No beacon, but they’ve displayed some sort of identification.”  A clear visual of the Q-ship’s flank filled the main screen.

Gurik’s jaw dropped.

“Keele,” he said in a quivering whisper, “tell me I didn’t just have a stroke.”

“No sir.”  The lieutenant fought hard to keep a straight face.  He lost the battle within seconds and choked back a laugh.  “We are indeed looking at a black rectangle with the representation of a raised middle finger in white upon it.  Not quite a jolly roger, although…”

“Umm, sir…” the sensor tech raised his hand again, “they’ve locked on to us with what looks like naval grade targeting sensors.”

Keele lost his amused expression and glanced at Gurik, whose face was quickly changing from its usual brick red to an alarming puce.

“May I suggest we break orbit and get some maneuvering room?”

“What?”  The captain blinked several times before seeming to regain some of his composure.  “By all means, yes, Keele.  Warn
Merlin
and tell them to follow suit.  We’ll try to get that dumb bastard between us and teach him a lesson in courtesy.  Giving me the finger indeed.  I’ll give him plasma indigestion.”

***

“Really, Zack?”  Talyn growled once she’d realized what he had done.  “Isn’t it a bit juvenile even for you?”

“Not really.”  He sounded completely at peace with himself.  “It’s the kind of thing that’ll either have them rolling on the deck laughing or feeling insulted enough to seek satisfaction.  Either way, I’ve just messed with their minds, and that gives us an advantage.”

Steiger started laughing.

“He’s got you there, Captain.  I think it was a brilliant move.”

“You would, Miko,” Talyn said over her left shoulder, not bothering to restrain a brief chuckle.

“Okay, Zack,” she continued, “I’ll take your psychological warfare excuse at face value.  It beats thinking my partner is still an overgrown adolescent.”

“They’re breaking orbit, both of them,” he replied, ignoring her sarcasm.  “I suggest you get on the ass of the nearest one.  Based on radio traffic, I think it’s the lead ship anyway.  With luck, we’ll spook them long enough to let Verrill and his bunch land safely.”

“You’re not going to fight?”  Steiger sounded surprised.

“Supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy’s resistance without fighting,” Decker quoted, his right hand raised like an ancient orator.  “Sun Tzu.  Mind you, if they start shooting, I’ll return the favor.”

“Don’t bet on self-preservation taking the upper hand with those Avalon folks.”  The mercenary replied.  “Your jolly digit flag might have riled them enough that they’re looking to count coup.  Corporate prestige is a big thing with them, you know.”

“As long as it gets the buggers away from Garonne long enough, I’m happy.  Of course, we’ll still have to land, but I’m counting on our smaller size and better maneuverability to help us evade them.”

“What if they have missiles?”

“Then they have missiles, but nothing like ours and they’ll definitely use them as a last resort - too expensive.”

“And you don’t have to worry about that?”  Steiger asked, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Ask Sera Moneybags when she’s not busy trying to sail us up a sloop’s skirts.”

***

“He’s turned to follow in our wake, and he’s accelerating,” an alarmed Lieutenant Keele reported.  “We’re now also being actively targeted by a missile controller.  It could mean they’re about to launch.”

“Where’s
Merlin
?”

“Still on the other side of the planet.  He’ll not be able to get this pirate in his sights for a little while yet.”

Captain Gurik started gnawing on the drooping tip of his mustache, struggling with the question of whether or not to be the first to shoot and possibly face accusations of piracy or wait for the intruder to commit himself.  There were still three freighters to consider.  If he let the mystery Q-ship run wild for too long, they’d slip through the blockade.  In the end, he decided to hedge his bets.

“Tell
Merlin
that they’re to divert and intercept the others.  We’ll deal with this one ourselves.  Guns, lock on and prepare to fire at my command.”

***

“Crap.”

“What?”  Talyn asked, startled by the intensity of Decker’s curse.

“He’s run up his guns and has locked on to us.  I guess it’s time to drop Sun Tzu and go with the guy who said hit ‘em hardest with the mostest.  May I go weapons free?”

“You may.  Try not to blow your entire load at once.  There are two of them, and it seems like the other one is changing course to intercept our friends.”

“I can help with that,” he said, smiling.  “Firing aft tubes at number two now.  That ought to get their attention.”

“Zack,” Steiger asked, “do you want me to go down and reload?”

“If you think you can manage without blowing us up, that would be great.  I’m about to fire the forward tubes as well, so knock yourself out.”

“Was that wise?”  Talyn asked once the mercenary had left.

“Does it matter?”  Decker shrugged.  “I may have mentioned that she seems to know her way around Navy ordnance, and besides, I get the feeling
Phoenix
might not make it out of this in one piece.”

“Optimist.”

“Nope.  Realist.  We’re over gunned, but it’s still two against one.  They may be rentals, but we shouldn’t assume that makes them stupid.”  He paused for a fraction of a second.  “There.  Let’s see what our Avalon buddies do with four Mark Twenty-Threes.”

***

“Fire.”

Gurik’s order seemed loud in the small bridge compartment, but the gunner’s mate obeyed instantly.

“Sir, the intruder has launched six missiles, two in
Merlin
’s direction and four at us,” Keele said, sounding more than a little alarmed.  “If I didn’t know that they weren’t for civilian use, I’d swear we’re looking at Mark Twenty-Threes.”

“Or maybe it’s a damned
Navy
Q-ship.”  The mercenary captain was suddenly horror-struck by the idea.  “Don’t tell me we just fired on a Navy ship.  No wonder they gave us the finger.”

A dozen plasma streams erupted from the intruder’s impressive bank of guns, almost three times more than
Morgana
could fire aft, and Gurik’s face lost its dark red shading in an instant, replaced by a greenish-white sheen that matched his pained expression.

The sensor tech made a quick gesture across his chest and murmured, “For what we are about to receive…”

“Engaging missiles,” Keele announced when the gunner fired
Morgana
’s four close-in defense calliopes, each with eight tubes and capable of spitting plasma at a rate of three thousand rounds a minute.

But Decker had timed it well.  His first gun salvos splashed against the sloop’s shields almost at the same time as the fire control system opened gaps for the calliopes to shoot through.  With the weight of plasma he’d thrown, a few rounds were bound to get through and hit the hull.

A few did.

First, they scratched the paint job, then they ate divots into the smooth hull, setting off damage control alarms on the bridge.  Then, the first of the four missiles exploded, and the gunner’s mate raised a cheer.

A second salvo bloomed from the intruder’s guns, ready to take advantage of a weakened shield if one of the missiles managed to explode its warhead against it.

The calliopes took out a second missile.

The third one detonated within spitting distance, sending
Morgana
’s damage control warnings into overdrive while the shield generators fought against the energy released by the massive nuclear blast.

Missile number four’s detonation sent such a huge feedback surge through the abused generators that they shut down moments before burning out.

Gurik stared at the status screen, mouth wide open, stunned by the unexpected reversal of fortune, unable to comprehend that he’d been outfought by a smaller ship.  The signalman’s voice snapped him out of it.

“Sir, the intruder has just told us to bugger off before he shoots again.”

“What?”  The words didn’t make sense.

“I said that the intruder told us, and I quote, bugger off before I shoot at you again and make you swim home.”

As if to emphasize the point, a single round streaked by
Morgana
, bare meters from her port nacelle.  Then, as if it had already tired of the brief fight, the unknown ship began to turn away, giving them another good glimpse of the jolly digit ensign on its flank, the final insult to a captain who’d always thought himself equal to anyone in the regular navy.

Of course, he had no idea that the man who’d bested him was a lowly ground pounder, a species he personally looked down upon.  That knowledge would have been enough to trigger a stroke.

“Should I fire again, Captain?”  Keele asked in a tentative tone.  “Perhaps use the missiles this time?”

Gurik shook his head, unable to speak.  When he did finally find his voice, he ordered them to a safe distance so they could restart their shield generators. 
Merlin
would have to take care of itself, but the enemy no longer enjoyed the element of surprise.  The Avalon crews now knew exactly what they were up against.  The intruder would be made to pay, with interest.

BOOK: Fatal Blade (Decker's War#3)
4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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